


It Just Makes Sense

by yellowteapots



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 06:38:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6041886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellowteapots/pseuds/yellowteapots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy and Clarke have to share a bed and what happens next, well, it just makes sense. </p><p>(Canon-verse, written before 3x03 so I've taken some liberties.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Just Makes Sense

**Author's Note:**

> This was a gift for the lovely heather-rivera/bellamiclarke on tumblr. I hope you enjoyed this and that all the lovely people on ao3 enjoy it too!
> 
> Come find me on tumblr @baellamyblake

Fuck Murphy, basically.

 

This isn't an uncommon thought for Clarke (or anyone else at Camp Jaha for that matter), but she supposes this time he can't be held totally accountable.

 

He'd been scheduled to be work in the Smoke House, assigned to watch the fire, making sure that it didn't get out of control not downing mug after mug of Montys latest special brew, Monroe egging him on from the sidelines as she sat outside weaving more fishing baskets.

 

Now, Clarke knows that you don't need to be a genius (or Raven) to know that whatever's actually in the Moonshine that Monty cooks up is highly flammable – they'd learnt that the hard way – so she'd have thought that Murphy would've been more careful with his supposed try at redemption. But instead of doing the responsible thing and actually doing his duty, Murphy has taken his attention away from the fire and, in his haste to pour himself another drink, had managed to spill the liquid over the flames and now almost half the tents were burning to the ground.

 

Clarke had been in a council meeting consisting of her mother, Kane and Bellamy talking about possible trading routes with the Trigedakru when Harper comes busting in through the tent flaps shouting about a fire, arms flailing wildly.

 

“What? Where?” Abby demands, looking up from the maps spread across the table, the scrape of the bench echoing as she hurries to stand. The sounds of the commotion outside were beginning to filter through the walls of the tent and it was enough to have them all scrambling towards the door.

 

“The west side of the camp...in the Delinquents Quarter.” she gasps, catching her breath and clutching her stomach. “Murphy was -”

 

Bellamy groans, cutting her off as he throws back the tent flap and stalks out. “I knew it was too soon to give him this much responsibility.” he grumbles.

 

Clarke thanks Harper on her way out, telling the girl to take it easy, and then she's off hurrying after Bellamy, her mother and Kane trailing behind her, barking out orders to anyone that gets in their way.

 

By the time they've crossed the camp, it's too late. As they reach the top of the ridge she can see Miller and Octavia shouting orders to some of the younger delinquents who are scurrying about trying to extinguish the flames. Some are throwing buckets of water over the melting tarp as the fire consumes another row of tents that they'd been fighting to salvage. A small surge of pride bubbles in her stomach as they work together, glad that she has these people by her side.

 

Bellamy comes to a halt, everyone seeming to move around him in slow motion as delinquents and arkers alike mingle together fighting to putting out the last of the flames and trying to salvage as much as they can from the wreckage. He feels Clarkes presence behind him and they can only watch on as the fire is contained, still blackening the already burning tents until there's nothing left, except charcoal and debris.

 

The look on his face speaks volumes – Clarke thinks it looks like someone's not only kicked a puppy but they've also burned it's life’s work. She knows more than anyone in the camp how hard Bellamy has worked to ensure that the Delinquents Quarter was finished.

 

Night after tireless night the light in his tent had burned into the early hours of the morning, his silhouette projected onto the side of his tent, as he spent hours hunched over blueprints and plans, trying to design a camp that the kids truly deserved. And then he would spend every ounce of daylight ensuring his plans were kept to, keeping himself and everyone else busy that most days he forgot to eat. She knew that he'd just wanted to give the kids a pace of their own to call home away from the adults after what they'd been through together. And he'd given that to them. And now it was gone.

 

He takes a step forward – she doesn't need to see his face to know what it looks like; she's seen that look too many times before – and she comes up behind him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. The tension in his muscles relaxes a fraction at her touch and his hand comes up to rest on top of hers, wordlessly assuring her that he appreciates her support.

 

They're brought back into the present soon enough, yelling coming back from everywhere except from Bellamy himself. He remains stoic, silently staring out across his ruined creation.

 

“It's okay, Bell.” She soothes, using her thumb to rub small circles along the line of his shoulder. “We'll fix this, together.”

 

This snaps him out of his reverie and he's soon milling amongst the crowds divvying up tasks and trying to get everything sorted before nightfall – if Clarke was more of a sentimental person she'd have been reminded of their first few weeks but this wasn't the time for all that.

 

Once the initial commotion has died down, they'd managed to save a little over a half of the tents and had gathered as much as they could from what was left of the others. Most of the kids were wandering amongst the wreckage trying to find belongings or they were gathering in groups, cursing their luck.

 

She finds him, as the sun starts to dip behind the hills, perched on an upturned log as he's trying to assign room mates. He's always been like this – it's his big brother complex coming into play – he just wants all of the younger kids to have a place to stay. He wants to do right by them and she appreciates that. They all do.

 

“You did good, you know.” she sighs, peering over his shoulder as soon as she takes a seat next to him.

 

“I shouldn't have trusted him so soon.” he murmurs, dragging a hand through his hair getting a little caught up in the tangles. “This is my fault.”

 

“No, this is no ones fault, sometimes even we forget that they're just kids – _we're_ just kids. It was an accident and we can't change anything now.” They're silent for a few minutes as Clarke drags her eyes across the list in his lap, before she reaches over and takes his pencil. Their hands brush for a moment. “I wouldn't put those two together.” she adds, leaning over him to cross out a few names and pair off a few more, namely putting Monty and Miller together. “There. That's better.”

 

Bellamy merely raises a sceptical eyebrow but if he disagrees with her then he doesn't voice it, a far cry from how they were when they first got here. But they've all changed since then, they've had to. He pairs off a few more of the kids, trying to keep the genders separate where possible – this may be a crisis but the least they can do is try and stop it getting worse by adding a bunch of babies to the mix – but looks to her every now and again to make sure he has her approval.

 

“So, uh, who're you sharing with, huh?” she yawns.

 

Her question lingers in the air for a while, he just lets his pencil tap a beat out against his knee. “Oh, uh, I kind of forgot about myself.” he laughs and she can hear the self-deprication in his voice and it makes her frown.

 

“You could always, you know, bunk with me?” she doesn't know why her cheeks flare up and she's suddenly nervous. He takes a while to reply so she carries on. “I mean...uh, **it just makes sense** because we spend so much time together and we're both in charge, uh, I guess what I’m trying to say is...it wouldn't hurt? But if you don't want to then I understand -”

 

“Clarke, you're rambling.” he smiles and this is the first one to reach his eyes for a long time. It's almost a smirk. Almost.“I guess sharing with you wouldn't be the _worst_ thing.”

 

“You're such a jerk.” she laughs, shoving him so hard that he nearly topples off the log. Once they've both stopped laughing she looks up at him, hands twisting nervously in her lap. “So, it's decided then?” she asks, not able to stop a smile from blossoming across her lips.

 

“I guess so... _roomie_.”

 

Once they're done, they make their way over to the communal noticeboard, pushing their way through the crowd of waiting kids, before using a rusty nail to pin up the room assignments. As soon as they take a step back, the delinquents all rush over, elbowing each other in their haste to find out who they'd been paired with and it reminds Clarke of Earth Skills class.

 

Clarke likes to think that she and Bellamy know the kids – _their_ kids, really – pretty well (and if she doesn't know them by now, then she probably never will) to make sure that they're all happy and she's proven to be correct when the majority of the kids head off towards their new lodgings, smiles on their faces despite the events of the night. Murphy is the only one who looks unhappy but then again Clarke has never actually seen him smile so the whole grumpy thing he's got going on could be his neutral face.

 

Monty smiles shyly over at her as he follows Miller towards the tent they'll be sharing and Clarke nods in acknowledgement, a small smile of her own playing on her lips seeing that they'd been able to make their friend happy. She sees a smile on Millers face too as he stops and waits for the younger boy to catch up with him but then it's gone again, it's then that she's sure she's made the right decision.

 

Bellamy is stood off to the side making sure all of the kids are accounted for so Clarke motions for him to follow her even though she knows that he already knows where they're going. Excited chatter fills the air as they weave between tents and Clarke is surprised how well the kids are taking it but then she supposes compared to what they've already been through, loosing a few shirts and having to share with a friend isn't the worst thing.

 

They come to a stop outside Clarke's tent, Bellamy awkwardly standing behind her as if he's not sure what the protocol is for this kind of situation and even in the dimming light she's sure that he looks nervous. It makes her smile, he's negotiated far worse in the past but this is the thing he looks anxious about.

 

She holds open the door and gestures for him to go inside. “Make yourself at home, I guess.”

 

He pauses for a few seconds before ducking underneath the tarp and she follows behind him.

 

She blushes as she watches him take in her belongings and she finds herself worrying about what he must be thinking. She knows it's not as nice as some of the other tents and it's certainly not as structured as the rooms inside the Ark but, for the first time since before the Sky Box, she finally has a place to call her own and she's proud of it.

 

“I like what you've done with the place.” he grins, taking in the layout of the tent. She's got a cot in the corner, a few animal skins pushed to the side, and then there's the rickety desk Raven made for her opposite the door. She has a few other bits scattered around, some pencils and a few brushes stored in a rusted tankard – nothing special.

 

“It's not much, but it's mine.” she smiles, sitting down on the edge of her cot and unlacing her boots.

 

He nods and she knows that he understands.

 

It's quiet for a moment. “So...” They both start at the same time.

 

After another false start, Clarke gestures for Bellamy to go first. “I'll take the floor if you've got a blanket or two to spare?”

 

“Don't be stupid, Bellamy. You're sharing the bed with me.” she holds a hand up when he looks like he's about to protest and shakes her head. “We're adults, Bellamy, we can do this without it being weird. It's only sharing a bed.”

 

He swallows thickly but Clarke doesn't pay it any attention. “No, you're right. Adults. Of course we can.” He replies, brows furrowed as if in determination. It's a look she's gotten used to.

 

Seeing her partially or completely undressed is probably going to happen sometime during their arrangement but he still keeps his back to her as they get changed in front of each other for the first time – even if she sneaks a look at him whilst he's taking of his shirt, it's nothing she hasn't seen before – and, of course, he remains a perfect gentleman as they both crawl into her bed.

 

It really shouldn't be awkward but the sound of his breathing as he lies next to her is only contended by the rapid beating of her heart and she really hopes he can't hear it. She doesn't know if she should be concerned that she's already thinking of it as _their_ bed. Probably not, **it just makes sense**.

 

They both lie there in near complete silence, the sound of their breaths seeming louder in the quiet, and she can feel the tension radiating from his body, the stiffness in his shoulders as he tries to keep to his side of the bed and avoid touching her where possible. It shouldn't be a big deal – the first few days on Earth they all slept next to each other in the dropship – but somehow, because it's them, because of what they mean to each other, it is. She wouldn't mind if they touched, not even the littlest bit, but she can't help but feel endeared towards him.

 

Eventually, once no more light filters into the tent and the candle has long since been blown out, his breaths finally even out and he rolls over in sleep, facing her. His face is only a few inches away from hers, eyelashes fanning over his cheeks, and Clarke thinks she's never seen him look so soft, vulnerable, and even though it's a complete contradiction to everything he is, she thinks it suits him better than a frown. She waits a few moments to make sure he really is asleep and then she shuffles closer, settling into the warmth that radiates out from his body.

 

Even though it should be, Clarke doesn't thinks it's that big of a surprise when they wake up pressed up against each other, her head resting lightly on his chest. She knows she shouldn't, knows how wrong it is, but she finds herself pretending to sleep for just a little bit longer, enjoying the feel of his warmth against her cheek. She also shouldn't be as disappointed as she is when he starts to stir and the moment is shattered as they part for the rest of the day.

 

She can't even pretend she isn't looking forward to going to bed that night.

 

-

 

One night, about a week after the arrangement began, Clarke comes back to her tent to find Bellamy propped up on her, their, bed reading a battered copy of _The Illiad_. She remembers him telling her that Gina had given it to him after one of the scouting trips to the Mountain and she can't help the flare of jealousy that rips through her at the thought. She never should have left, she should have been the one to do that for him, be there for him but she wasn't and she knows that sorry will never be good enough for that.

 

She hides all this from him, of course, schooling her expression as she steps further into her tent and tosses her jacket over her small stool. He glances up then, the makeshift glasses Raven had fixed up for him perching on the end of his nose, and smile tugging on his lips almost as soon as he sees her.

 

“I didn't think you'd still be up?” she yawns, dropping down to sit on the edge of her bed. She leans over and pulls at her laces before toeing off her boots before throwing her legs up onto the bed and lying down next to him on top of the covers.

 

“I was waiting for you.” he smiles, closing up his book and putting it on their bedside table. It was made from one of the pine trees to the south of the camp and even though one of the legs is shorter than the others it still serves its purpose.

 

“Oh,” she murmurs as he takes off his glasses, folding them before placing them on top of his book. “You didn't have to.”

 

“I know. I wanted to though.” he pauses and if she didn't know better she'd say he was blushing under his tan. “You shouldn't sleep in your clothes on.”

 

She can't help but roll her eyes, he can be such a dad sometimes. Clarke can't be bothered to argue, though, so she pulls off her cargo pants and her shirt before Bellamy has a chance to look away and then crawls under the blankets on her side. She knows she should find it weird that she now has a _side_ of her own bed but **it just makes sense**. And much like the rest of the week, it still doesn't keep them from waking up sprawled across each other.

 

-

 

A gust of wind blows through the door to the the newly erected council building – built with re-purposed pieces of the Ark as well as wooden planks hauled in from the forest – when the idea finally hits her.

 

“We should build cabins.” she blurts, cutting her mother off in the middle of a discussion about trade routes and sending a mission to Polis. She's met with blank looks from Kane and Abby, but when she meets Bellamy's eyes across the table she can see the look of pride in his eyes. “What's the point in keeping all these tents everywhere when they're drafty and let in water and not to mention the fact that they're flammable? We're here, we're not going anywhere so we should make something more lasting.”

 

Bellamy grins conspiratorially. “It'll gives the kids something to do, to give them something to work towards and raise morale.”

 

“Besides, we need all the space we can get so **it just makes sense** to have cabins. We can't go on hollowing out Alpha Station, repurposing the old rooms, there wasn't enough space in them on the Ark and there isn't enough space now we're on the ground.”

 

Abby nods, a small smile on her face at her daughters insistence. “It's a lot to take on this close to autumn, summer is coming to an end so I don't know if we'll be able to get the resources.”

 

“I think we should be able to manage,” Kane interjects, hand rubbing along the line of his stubble. “We've made some new agreements with the Trikru, Indra seems confident that we'll be able to start production in lumber in the next few weeks, as long as the commander agrees.”

 

The room is silent for a beat, awkwardness in the air at the mention of the leader of the grounder coalition. Their last meeting with her hadn't gone as smoothly as they, well Abby, had hoped. The least said about it, the better.

 

“Very well, I won't be able to spare the men and women from the guard but as long as the pair of you are confident you can gather enough volunteers then I'll be happy for you to begin construction as soon as you see fit.” Abby makes a note of the plans, then swiftly carries on with the rest of the business planned for the meeting.

 

Clarke glances across the room to find Bellamy already looking in her direction and they share a triumphant look. She catches the way Kane's looking at them out of the corner of her eye but that doesn't stop her from keeping her eyes on Bellamy for a few moments after he's already turned away.

 

When they get back to their tent at the end of the day, dirt clumped on their boots and limbs aching, neither of them mention the fact that they'll be staying together for a lot longer now than if they decided to simply move the kids into the Ark as the Chancellor had first suggested. If either of them mind the continuation of their arrangement then neither comment on it and each is glad of that fact. They've grown used to following the other home at the end of the day and Clarke feels uneasy about the thought of that ending.

 

“That was a good call you made earlier.” Bellamy mumbles, once they've both undressed and are lying underneath their blankets and the new fur that Octavia had made for them. Clarke thinks the younger girl is finally beginning to forgive her, if only for her brothers sake.

 

“You think so?” she asks, turning on her side to face him. “You don't think we're taking on to much?”

 

He rests his hand on her shoulder, clearly meant to be reassuring but given the context it has Clarke's heart pounding in her chest. “When has that ever stopped us before?”

 

Suddenly her breath is watery and it's moments like these that she really appreciates him and all that he has done and continues to do for her. Being on the ground has changed them all but having Bellamy by her side reminds her that who they are is different from what the ground has made them. “Thanks, Bell. I know don't say it enough but I really don't know what I'd do without you.”

 

“It's a good job that you're never going to find out then.” His smile is wide, cheeky even like it was before, but it doesn't quite meet his eyes. They both know he can't promise that she won't lose him but they also know that he doesn't plan on going anywhere, he's too stubborn for that.

 

The warmth returns to her chest when he opens up his arms for her, and she shuffles in closer, resting her head against his chest. He rests his chin on top of her head and Clarke can't be sure which one of them it is that sighs. She feels safer in his arms, always has and she knows it's always been a Blake thing, physical comfort, and it really does do the job. It's the first time they've gone to sleep like that but she knows it won't be the last.

 

-

 

The look on Ravens face is akin to incredulity as she gives Clarke a once over as she sits across from her in the mess hall. Clarke thinks it's a bit weird for her friend to be looking at her so intently – people have been giving her funny looks all day and she's just about fed up from it – and she has a feeling that she's being judged but she has no idea why. This continues for a while, Clarke trying to eat her food in peace, until she eventually snaps.

 

“What is it? Have I got blood on my face or something?”

 

“Is that Bellamys shirt?” Raven asks, cutting straight to the chase. Her smirk is unmistakable.

 

Clarke looks down and realises that the other girl is right. She'd gotten dressed in the dark that morning and apparently she'd mistaken one of his shirts for one of hers and had apparently been walking around camp wearing Bellamy's clothes for the whole day. No wonder people kept looking at her weirdly. And, God, if they didn't think there was something going on between the co-leaders before then they certainly do now.

 

She doesn't even need to feel the heat in her cheeks to know that they've turned scarlet and, worst still, she also knows that she's tripping over her words when she tries to explain herself. “It's, uh... I got dressed in the dark this morning so, I, uh, must have just put his shirt on by mistake. They all look pretty similar so...”

 

Raven doesn't look like she's buying it for a second. “Look, Clarke, I wasn't going to say anything but you do realise that there are enough cabins now that you could move out of your tent and have one of your own, so you wouldn't have to share anymore...unless you don't want to?”

 

“I don't want to talk about it.” she mutters, turning back to her porridge and hoping that Raven doesn't push things any further.

 

“Oh my god. You want to keep living with him don't you?”

 

“Raven.”

 

Ravens eyebrow arches, accusatory even with the grin plastered across her face. “Do you like him?”

 

Clarke realises she's gone too long without saying anything when Raven starts to laugh, drawing a lot of unwanted attention their way. “Uh, of course I like him. We're friends, people, uh, usually like their friends.” she bites out, avoiding any eye contact.

 

“This is priceless but, for the record, I totally called this. Monty owes me some moonshine.”

 

“This is not happening.” Clarke grumbles. She has to hold herself back from flicking a spoonful of food at her friend – she doubts that would go down well with her mother.

 

She supposes that this was going to happen eventually, someone was bound to cotton on to the fact that her feelings for Bellamy had grown to be more than platonic since they'd been sharing a bed. Or since she came back. She's not entirely sure when it happened but it has.

 

In retrospect, she supposes it was always going to happen. Clarke's always believed that she and Bellamy, despite their rocky start, had the sort of affinity for one another that never goes away, it just grows into something more over time. She just hopes he feels the same way.

 

“Nice shirt, Clarke.” Bellamy practically beams when he ducks into the tent. His navy shirt is darkened in places with sweat and some of his curls are stuck to his forehead.

 

She probably should have changed as soon as she realised her mistake but she's had a busy day. She blushes again under his gaze and then again when he bends down and drops a quick kiss against her hair line.

 

“I'm just going for a shower, you don't have to wait up.” he yawns, picking up a change of clothes and then wandering back out as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

 

Maybe it hadn't.

 

-

 

As it turns out, she doesn't have to wait as long as she would have thought to find out how he feels about her, yet it still manages to catch her off guard.

 

Construction on the cabins is in full swing when the first of the leaves began to fall from the trees. Clarke's seen a lot of colours since first arriving on the ground – the greens of the grass and the trees, browns and blues of the water and even the startling reds of the things they'd all rather forget – but she thinks nothing really compares to the colours of autumn. The oranges and yellows of the crisp leaves underneath their feet seem to litter the earth but it's a sign that the year is almost over and they'll soon be able to start again.

 

But there's nothing quite like coming back to her tent at the end of the day to see Bellamy bent over their makeshift hearth, prodding at the embers with a stick. Those are the colours she likes the most. There was something about the light and the warmth radiating from the fire and the way that Bellamy lets her press up against him as they drift into sleep that makes her realise that autumn just might be her favourite season.

 

The nights are drawing in too, stars piercing the night sky far earlier than they used to, driving everyone back to their dwellings much sooner in the day. None of them like the dark, it hides too much in the shadows.

 

“Hey.” she smiles, walking through the doorway. She sends him a small wave and then has to stifle a yawn behind her palm, leaving the tent flaps open. She knows he likes to see the stars when they first appear in the sky, it reminds him of his mother. Since they've been cohabiting she's learnt most of the names of the constellations.

 

He looks up at her from underneath the dark curls falling across his face with a tired smile, before looking back at the pages spread out before him.

 

She can practically see the tension in his shoulders from across the room so, without really thinking about what she was doing, Clarke walks over to him and rests her hands on his shoulders. He tilts his head to the side as if granting her permission and she starts to tentatively massage his shoulders as he continues to look over their plans.

 

“Looks like you've got everything under control.” Clarke murmurs and she's surprised to hear how breathy her voice has become. Even if her heart rate was far from resting, she would have liked to have thought she was able to conceal it better.

 

He lets out a breath as her fingers continue to work the muscles in shoulders, head lolling backwards, and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't pleased at his reaction. “Uh, yeah, under control.”

 

Clarke hums, letting herself enjoy the closeness between them. It's mostly quiet bar the breaths coming from each of them and the sounds of a group of the kids singing drifting in from outside.

 

The tension in the air becomes palpable as she can feel the knots alleviating underneath her fingers. One of his hands snakes up and takes a hold of one of her hands, stilling it. He pulls it forwards, down his chest and then links their fingers together just above his collar bone. She can feel his heart pulsing and it's as fast as her own.

 

“Clarke, what are we doing?” Bellamy asks, he's leant his head against the arm of the hand he's holding and she can feel fans of air hitting her forearm. The light behind him is turning to a deep purple, the reds bleeding out as the sun dips behind the tree line.

 

“Drawing up plans for the cabins...” She breaths, and even as she says it she knows it's not what he's asking her. He pulls her around him to that she's sat on the bed across from him.

 

He sighs, dragging his free hand through his hair. “That's not what I meant.”

 

“I know.” she can't meet his eyes. She's afraid that she's not going to like what she sees in them if she does.

 

“Look at me.” Bellamy whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

 

“I don't know what this is, Bell, but I know I want it.” she looks up and his face has never been more open than it is right now. His eyes are wide and convey so much that she wouldn't even know where to start trying to figure it all out. His whole face is hopeful and she's only seen it like that a few times but this times its for her and she's almost overcome by another wave of affection for him engulfs her.

 

“Do you –” he pauses, shaking his head. “Do you really mean that?”

 

Clarke isn't like Bellamy, words aren't always her friends and she favours actions over a speeches, she can lead her people but she's never been able to lead him. She leans forward, resting her forehead against his for a second before bringing their lips together.

 

He's frozen in place for a second before his hands are tangling in her hair and he's pulling her closer, into his lap. She nearly knocks over their lamp as he presses her back against the desk. They stay tangled up like that for a while, neither of them paying any attention to anything but the other, until Clarke feels herself getting more impatient and she tugs them both over onto the bed.

 

They stumble together and Bellamy falls heavily on top of her, forcing them apart, and Clarke smiles up at him.

 

“You should do that more, you know.” He says, pressing a line of kisses along her jaw and down to the pulse point in her neck.

 

“Kiss you?” she manages as he slides his hand underneath her shirt.

 

“Mmm.” He hums working his way back towards her lips.

She grasps at his hair and wraps her legs up and over his back trying to pull him closer. He surges in closer then, pulling back only to yank off her shirt – nearly ripping the material as it comes over her head.

 

They're so embroiled in each other, pressing kisses her and hands wandering, that they miss the sounds of the heavy footsteps outside and then, “Let me guess, it's not that it looks like?” Miller's voice actually cracks with embarrassment as he recoils backwards, nearly tripping over his own feet. “I'm sorry!”

 

“No, actually this is exactly what it looks like.” Bellamy laughs, trying to cover Clarke with his body.

 

The other boy looks mortified and hurries back out of the tent muttering, “Monty was right, **it just makes sense** now.”

 

She can still feel her pulse racing and she doesn't had time to be embarrassed before Bellamy has recaptured her lips with his and is pulling her back down.

 

She knows – as they both collapse back against the bed and curl up together, Bellamy pressing a light kiss to the back of her head – that everyone is right that **it just makes sense -** Clarke and Bellamy make sense and they should have realised a lot sooner because apparently everyone else did.

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to leave a comment, I'd love to know what you're favourite line/scene was :)


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